


I Can Picture The Future (I See It So Clear)

by blanchtt



Series: Minific Prompts [8]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:03:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: She’d die rather than admit it. But Mrs. S’s hand in hers, the quiet encouragements, the stolid expression even as Sarah’s pretty sure she clutches hard enough to crush Mrs. S’ fingers - they get her through it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sarah + someone’s greatest fear

 

 

 

 

She’d die rather than admit it. But Mrs. S’s hand in hers, the quiet encouragements, the stolid expression even as Sarah’s pretty sure she clutches hard enough to crush Mrs. S’ fingers - they get her through it. 

 

“She’s _tiny_ ,” Felix breathes incredulously, standing a safe distance away as if he can break Kira from over by the window, and even though she’s bone-tired and probably looks like shite Sarah takes Kira in her arms when the nurse offers her up, name already decided long ago, and sits up against her pillows as the doctor and nurses tidy up discretely, slipping out the door silently. 

 

She _is_ tiny, and Sarah sets her jaw, reaches out and ghosts a fingertip over Kira’s little eyebrow, gentle. Blonde. She can’t have come from anyone except Cal, and the thought hardens her resolution. She’s fucked up her own life, yeah. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, and certainly enough people have told her that that she’d know it anyway. But Kira’s not going to grow up like that. Her and Felix and Mrs. S - they make a family, and that’s all they need. 

 

“She’s perfect,” she hears Mrs. S agree, and even though she’d like nothing more than to hold Kira, to press a kiss to her cheek, to tell her all the things they’ll do together, Sarah can’t fight the exhaustion that hits her in an undeniable wave.

 

“Can you - ” she begins, voice wavering, and Mrs. S already has Kira safe in her arms. 

 

“Go to sleep, you silly twat,” Felix chides, and Sarah hardly has the energy to flip him the bird before closing her eyes gratefully.

 

 

-

 

 

She walks out of the hospital with Kira wrapped up in her arms, Mrs. S lugging all the things she’s accumulated over the past few days in a bag in one hand and the carseat in another. 

 

“You can put her in the carseat _before_ you get in the car, you know,” Mrs. S had joked.

 

They make their way out of the lobby, and whether it’s the lack of sleep or her sore breasts or just finding her footing again, the glances are tangible. Sarah scowls as she follows after Mrs. S, boots squeaking against the tile floor. She’s used to slipping under the radar, written off by just about everyone as just some punk kid to be avoided and subsequently ignored. It’s worked for her. But dressed in dark jeans she hasn’t worn in months, a Clash t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and holding a tiny _person_ she just pushed out of her still-aching body, it’s not so easy. 

 

They make their way outside, and Mrs. S stops at the curb, sets everything down next to her and nods in the direction of the parking lot before walking away. “I don’t know what they gave you, but it’s damn heavy. I’ll come ‘round and pick you up.”

 

Kira is light in her arms, sleeping still, and it’s a chance to stretch her legs, and so Sarah utters a _thanks_ , watches Mrs. S walk away and stands waiting. 

 

It’s a nice morning, not too hot just yet. When Kira’s older, it’ll make a good day for a birthday party. She’d never particularly cared about her own birthday - might as well have been a made-up date someone stuck on her file. But Sarah raises Kira, drops a kiss to her forehead, and keeps an eye out for Mrs. S’s car. But with Kira, she knows. She knows her birthdate, remembers the first time she laid eyes on her, held her. Kira’s gonna have a mother, and a proper one.

 

Kira stirs in her arms - only once, but it means she’s waking up. Sarah sighs hard, looking around once more. “Where’d you bloody run off to, Siobhan?” 

 

And it’s in the process of keeping an eye out for her that Sarah turns, impatient, and catches sight of a family walking towards the hospital lobby. They aren’t there for someone who’s dying, that’s certain. They’re carrying flowers and balloons ( _It’s a boy!_ ), a husband and wife and two-point-five almost-grown kids. And normally, Sarah would’t give a shite about some suburban zombies who’ve managed to stumble into downtown Toronto. But it’s the woman that happens to glance over at her as she speaks with her husband, that meets her eyes, sees her, and whose smile suddenly and visibly disappears off her face.

 

The woman looks away, quick, like she hadn’t just stared at her, but not before Sarah understands why. Single mum, punk ho, standing on the sidewalk with a baby in her arms and nowhere to go. It couldn’t be further from the truth. She clutches Kira to her, takes a step forward, and it feels good, to yell again. 

 

“Oi! What the bloody hell you staring at, bitch?”

 

It catches peoples’ attention, garnering looks from people milling around the entrance, walking inside, some annoyed and some shocked. But the family continues on, oblivious, except for the woman who glances back, quick over her shoulder with an unreadable expression. Kira stirs in her arms but thankfully keeps quiet, and Sarah’s aware of Mrs. S pulling up to the curb. Was it judgement? Pity? For her or for Kira?

 

“Fuck you!” she howls, laughing because she's furious and can do nothing else, and with the slam of the car door Mrs. S is at her side, a hand on her shoulder hustling her toward the car.

 

“Let it go, Sarah,” Mrs. S says firmly, and _fuck_ this hospital and all the stupid bloody idiots in it. Sarah holds tight to Kira, lets herself be led to the back seat. “Come on.”

 

She lets Mrs. S take Kira, set up the carseat, and place her in it before she takes a seat next to Kira’s carseat in the back. Sarah closes her eyes and lets the anger seep away, hearing Mrs. S put their things in the boot, shut it, and walk around to the driver’s side. It’s only when Mrs. S gets into her seat and slams the door shut that she speaks. 

 

“’S not bloody right, mum,” Sarah says, hating the hitch to her voice. She clears her throat loudly, shuffles down into her seat and looks over at Kira, crossing her arms over herself. “She doesn’t know shite about me.”

 

Mrs. S lets out a laugh, soft, and Sarah's head jerks up, looks and finds her half-turned in her seat toward her, the barest hint of a smile playing on her lips as she watches her. 

 

It smacks her upside the head all at once that now she and Mrs. S are more similar than she’d like to admit, although she’d given Mrs. S a much harder time than Kira could probably ever conceive of putting her through. And Mrs. S had done that all with Felix in tow, too. The thought is sobering, that Mrs. S has never given up on her, even now with nothing to her name except a diaper bag, a carseat, and Kira. 

 

“You’re right, love,” Mrs. S agrees, and just hearing that soothes the stinging injustice of the woman’s stare. Sarah smiles wanly, suddenly tired, and nods before looking away out the window. “She doesn’t know shite, so don’t let it get under your skin.”

 

Mrs. S starts the car, and they ride in silence as Sarah watches Kira. Her first car ride, first time out of the hospital, first time going home, even though she’s sleeping through most of it. Sarah stores it all away - the sunshine, the neighborhoods they pass, the song on the radio - to tell her someday. The other parts, she’ll leave out. 

 

“You going to help Felix set up the nursery like you want it?” Mrs. S’s voice cuts through their comfortable silence as they pull onto the highway. “He’s excited.”

 

“Yeah,” she agrees. Mrs. S is busy watching the road, and it must be all the bloody hormones still wreaking havoc on her because Sarah reaches up, scrubs away at a tear that threatens to fall and scowls just in case Mrs. S has glanced back in the rearview mirror. Like she wants it, Felix there helping her and Mrs. S driving her home. She's lucky and she'll manage, no matter what anyone else thinks, and Kira's going to start life right. “Thanks, mum.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
